"You're something else!" they say.
"Well aware," I reply.
Strangers assess my state
Ultimately leaving me there to die.

"What kind of death?" one asks.
"A slow one," No bother to elaborate.
Carrying on after a glance at my flask.
Making no mistake.

"Oh, I see." a bystander quiets.
"Do you truly?" I remark testily.
Beckoning them to have a sip,
Complying they sit nervously.

"I stand corrected," they're wanly smiling.
"It's our secret." My lips whisper.
The passerby is offering kindly,
I go to stand, accepting the gesture.

"I wish to sleep, too." Their words soft.
"However we cannot," Mirth tugs my words.
This new friend nods, then coughs.
Walking, our plight going along unheard.

"There's another over yonder," A pause.
"Let us go on to them." An understanding sounds.
Walking to the stranger; kindness, our cause.
Thus adding another soul to the run-down.